This adventure started as a Monday night scramble. At 3 pm, I was shoving clothes and food into bike bags, excitement and last-minute doubts competing for attention.

Sometimes it’s tough to commit to a solo adventure. With no one holding me accountable, every minor hurdle is an opportunity to say, “Maybe next week.” But this is how it goes when trying to squeeze outdoor time into a busy schedule. I’m on the road for work, and it’s a perfect window – an early evening ride – to get back online by 10 am the next day.

With a quick final decision, I threw my Marin Pine Mountain in the car and loaded it up just outside Sisters, Oregon. By 4 pm, I was climbing the 2,500 ft to the Green Ridge trail, and by 7 pm, I was riding along the top. The Cascade range to my left—a clear view of Mt. Jefferson, Three-Fingered Jack, and South Sisters welcomed me around every turn along the ridge.

It was going to be a 40-mile loop. A mini-adventure, something to get the blood pumping and out into the backcountry for the night. I planned to gain the ridge and travel along, taking in the views during golden hour — descend an unknown fire road, then take the river back the last 20 miles. I’d fill up on water there, make dinner, and rinse off in the cool water.

That’s how it started, and the climb up was a familiar dance – easy climbing, even better maneuverability. Even fully loaded with gear, I hardly noticed a difference once I found my cadence.

Like the trip plan, my pack list was last minute. I opted to travel with my entire sleep system and just one extra layer for after sunset. Considering the lingering heat, I felt good about the light layers and knew I was all set on food, but at 17 miles in, I was getting a bit concerned about water.

I still wasn’t used to riding in the dry heat of central Oregon. After a few hours of singletrack winding its way up to a ridge with no water source, I was down to one and a half liters of the four I’d started with. Still, according to plan, as long as I made it to the river, it was beautiful up there. The sun was getting low, and I wished I’d strapped on one more water bottle since I’d had plenty of space.

Paused in a clearing with a sweeping view that would only get better as the sun dipped closer to the horizon, I started weighing my options — did I have enough water to stay up here tonight? Enough for my dinner, breakfast, coffee, and the ride back? It would be mostly downhill, but not without some punchy climbs. I’d be cutting it close, and I’d probably have to swap coffee and dehydrated breakfast for a few sips of water and a protein bar.

All this ran through my head as I started to unpack my bike, the decision already seemingly made. I’d set up camp here and use water sparingly. Suddenly, I was even happier I’d decided to pack that last-minute beer, which I drank while the sun set.

I heated water for half a cup of coffee, saving all the last bits I could for the ride back. I was sparing and thirsty all the way down, but as I ripped through the cross-country singletrack, I knew I’d made many great calls.

This ride was 24 hours of decision-making — all great, but a challenge nonetheless.

There are a thousand things to think about, especially when riding alone, but I can rest easily, knowing at least that my gear is solid, starting with my bike.